You’ve named what most of us try to bury under gym memberships and forced gratitude: the aching betrayal of a body that used to obey. And yet, somehow, you’ve turned that ache into a chapel. Not a shiny one with soft lighting and praise bands, but the kind that smells like old sweat, saltwater, and mercy.
The image of swimming in pain and then in grace, in the same lake—brother, that’s the gospel. The real one. The one without applause. The one where God shows up not to fix you but to float beside you. Bruised. Beautiful. Still bleeding.
Thank you for reminding us that being held is the miracle. That perfection is a prison. And that perhaps resurrection doesn’t mean walking without a limp—but walking on anyway, scars out, arms open.
Ian, this is just so beautiful and I am touched by your total truth and vulnerability. I've commented on your writing before and I shared that I lost my 15 year old granddaughter to cancer. By the time she died, her body was ravaged but still beautiful to me. One day when I missed her so I conjured her up, imagining that I could see her sitting in a chair across the room, one elbow resting over the back of the chair, her head thrown back in laughter, her long beautiful legs crossed at the knee. In my "vision" the deep brown scar was still there on her leg and it just seemed right. I think she will carry that scar into eternity because it was what made her who she was...a symbol for the suffering that made her whole. Blessing to you. You have a beautiful soul - just like my Nicole.
Hi Victoria, thanks for your comment that has really touched me. I can’t imagine how painful it must have been to accompany your daughter through cancer and loss. You have my deepest compassion, and that image of your daughter made me smile and brought a tear to my eye. Without contemplation and the sense of the love of God as a constant reality I don’t think I could be Christian - it would be too hard too brutal. I love the image of your daughter free but still the scars of the suffering she endured. Many prayers and hugs from here. Ian xx
Hello Ian from a new reader…I am struck by the fact that while you have disabilities that others do not, you also have gifts that others do not. You’re a gifted communicator. You have spiritual vision and insights while others languish in blindness they are not aware of. The spiritual practices you recommend are powerful and helpful. I’m still thinking about your words about Julian.
Some of the most precious mystical experiences I have ever had came through pain and loss—pain and loss that I would not give up now.
Thank you, and may our Lord continue to pour out his spirit on you!
Thanks Peri I really appreciate it. You are right I think spiritual growth and discernment often happen in times of difficulty and suffering. Writing here is like a prayer for me. Thanks for your kindness and encouragement.
As have all the respondents mentioned, this was incredibly powerful. I have a son in his mid-40s who is a disabled veteran. Because of multiple conditions, he is partially paralyzed and has also been diagnosed with a terminal lung condition. I am older, so none of us can travel to visit, but we talk frequently by phone. We have spoken about much that you mentioned in your article and grieved together about the changes in his life. It is quite humbling that we are facing some similar issues with physical mobility. I would never have wanted this for my child. I will forward this to him and try your prayer methods. I am grateful to you.
Hi Susan glad it was helpful and the one previously about anxiety might also help. You may be interested in the spiritual journey material also but this element requires a paid subscription which helps me have the time to write at this level of depth.
What a wondrous blog. So many thoughts and connections arise. 1) A profound compassion for all you have suffered over the years since realizing you have this condition. 2) Further insight into the power of the Welcoming Prayer I first discovered over a decade ago while leading a Centering group. 3) Resonating deeply with being held by God, something that keeps coming up over and over from different Christian authors. 4) Relating to aging, though I am quite healthy, at 60 I am no longer young, and I struggle with that too at times - for example I have struggled with a fear of falling after three pretty bad falls. The most recent was March and I managed to sprain an ankle and break a wrist. 5) The two stories, the joyous, easy one on the surface, the one of Facebook posts, likes and loves, but the other sharp with hidden reefs under the surface, difficult to admit to oneself, difficult to share with others. And a lot more, such a rich post, thanks, friend.
Thanks Nicole. I relate to all that you have said. It’s so not easy but rather than focusing on fear and dread there is something so freeing about the centering prayer and related practices to prevent our emotions dictate our reality. I am looking forward to more conversation when you get back.
I am always elated swimming in glacial lakes - as you know, the (at first) shocking chill subsides into an exhilarated peace. I know you hold on to that memory as well. Thank you for your wisdom 💙
Thanks Sarah - yep love wild swimming. Been thinking I need to find a way of doing it here in Hamilton when I don’t have a car and need to find a sandy beach away from the industrial areas for Lake Ontario..
You’ve named what most of us try to bury under gym memberships and forced gratitude: the aching betrayal of a body that used to obey. And yet, somehow, you’ve turned that ache into a chapel. Not a shiny one with soft lighting and praise bands, but the kind that smells like old sweat, saltwater, and mercy.
The image of swimming in pain and then in grace, in the same lake—brother, that’s the gospel. The real one. The one without applause. The one where God shows up not to fix you but to float beside you. Bruised. Beautiful. Still bleeding.
Thank you for reminding us that being held is the miracle. That perfection is a prison. And that perhaps resurrection doesn’t mean walking without a limp—but walking on anyway, scars out, arms open.
Blessed be the brace,
Aleksander that is a breath taking response. Thanks for your insights. I am trying to slowly accept this as truth one day at a time.
Ian, this is just so beautiful and I am touched by your total truth and vulnerability. I've commented on your writing before and I shared that I lost my 15 year old granddaughter to cancer. By the time she died, her body was ravaged but still beautiful to me. One day when I missed her so I conjured her up, imagining that I could see her sitting in a chair across the room, one elbow resting over the back of the chair, her head thrown back in laughter, her long beautiful legs crossed at the knee. In my "vision" the deep brown scar was still there on her leg and it just seemed right. I think she will carry that scar into eternity because it was what made her who she was...a symbol for the suffering that made her whole. Blessing to you. You have a beautiful soul - just like my Nicole.
Hi Victoria, thanks for your comment that has really touched me. I can’t imagine how painful it must have been to accompany your daughter through cancer and loss. You have my deepest compassion, and that image of your daughter made me smile and brought a tear to my eye. Without contemplation and the sense of the love of God as a constant reality I don’t think I could be Christian - it would be too hard too brutal. I love the image of your daughter free but still the scars of the suffering she endured. Many prayers and hugs from here. Ian xx
Hello Ian from a new reader…I am struck by the fact that while you have disabilities that others do not, you also have gifts that others do not. You’re a gifted communicator. You have spiritual vision and insights while others languish in blindness they are not aware of. The spiritual practices you recommend are powerful and helpful. I’m still thinking about your words about Julian.
Some of the most precious mystical experiences I have ever had came through pain and loss—pain and loss that I would not give up now.
Thank you, and may our Lord continue to pour out his spirit on you!
Thanks Peri I really appreciate it. You are right I think spiritual growth and discernment often happen in times of difficulty and suffering. Writing here is like a prayer for me. Thanks for your kindness and encouragement.
As have all the respondents mentioned, this was incredibly powerful. I have a son in his mid-40s who is a disabled veteran. Because of multiple conditions, he is partially paralyzed and has also been diagnosed with a terminal lung condition. I am older, so none of us can travel to visit, but we talk frequently by phone. We have spoken about much that you mentioned in your article and grieved together about the changes in his life. It is quite humbling that we are facing some similar issues with physical mobility. I would never have wanted this for my child. I will forward this to him and try your prayer methods. I am grateful to you.
Hi Susan glad it was helpful and the one previously about anxiety might also help. You may be interested in the spiritual journey material also but this element requires a paid subscription which helps me have the time to write at this level of depth.
What a wondrous blog. So many thoughts and connections arise. 1) A profound compassion for all you have suffered over the years since realizing you have this condition. 2) Further insight into the power of the Welcoming Prayer I first discovered over a decade ago while leading a Centering group. 3) Resonating deeply with being held by God, something that keeps coming up over and over from different Christian authors. 4) Relating to aging, though I am quite healthy, at 60 I am no longer young, and I struggle with that too at times - for example I have struggled with a fear of falling after three pretty bad falls. The most recent was March and I managed to sprain an ankle and break a wrist. 5) The two stories, the joyous, easy one on the surface, the one of Facebook posts, likes and loves, but the other sharp with hidden reefs under the surface, difficult to admit to oneself, difficult to share with others. And a lot more, such a rich post, thanks, friend.
Thanks Nicole. I relate to all that you have said. It’s so not easy but rather than focusing on fear and dread there is something so freeing about the centering prayer and related practices to prevent our emotions dictate our reality. I am looking forward to more conversation when you get back.
I am always elated swimming in glacial lakes - as you know, the (at first) shocking chill subsides into an exhilarated peace. I know you hold on to that memory as well. Thank you for your wisdom 💙
Thanks Sarah - yep love wild swimming. Been thinking I need to find a way of doing it here in Hamilton when I don’t have a car and need to find a sandy beach away from the industrial areas for Lake Ontario..